


Indiscretion Advised

by limit_breaker



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Hux gives no fux, M/M, Not Serious, apparently neither do I, so stupid, this ship is garbage in disguise as more garbage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limit_breaker/pseuds/limit_breaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux is not stupid: he knows Matt is Ren in disguise. And surely he knows better than to squander the opportunity to antagonize his new ward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indiscretion Advised

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a fill to a prompt from the tfa_kink meme:  
> "So Hux knows Matt is Kylo, and decides to hit on him. Kylo doesn't really know how to react, and Hux realizes that Kylo can't do anything to him in return because he has to maintain his cover.
> 
> Hux proceeds to become a lot more aggressive with his flirting, becomes touchy-feely, orders Matt to do strangely erotic tasks that require a lot of bending over etc waiting to see if Kylo will reveal himself."  
> -  
> It's utter nonsense crack!fic but that prompt was seriously too good to pass up. I seem to leap at any opportunity to torture Kylo Ren. My aesthetic these days. And being mean is the same as flirting, right?
> 
> OP: I hope you enjoy. :3
> 
> As always, I’d like to apologize to the multiverse for being such dark sided Kylux trash.

“Matt, was it?” General Hux inquires suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at the new technician crouched before him.

“Uh… yeah.” Matt replies awkwardly, eyes shifting behind oversized glasses. “I’m Matt.”

The general grins inwardly. “Walk with me, Matt.”

“Umm.. okay.” Matt stands up from the small floor panel he’d been tinkering with and joins Hux.

Side by side, the two stride down the narrow corridor. “So what is it you do here, exactly, Matt?”

“I’m the new radar technician. Captain Phasma hired me.” Matt replies, completely convinced that he’s completely convincing.

“Captain Phasma, hmm?”

“Yeah.”

At the end of the hallway, Hux stops and peers into Matt’s face. A small squadron of stormtroopers march past. “You know, Matt, I understand you’re new, but when addressing a superior officer such as myself, you ought to add ‘ _sir_ ’ to your responses. It shows your respect for their authority.” He smirks as he registers Matt’s face darkening.

“Yes,  _sir_.” He replies through clenched teeth.

“That’s better.” Hux struts off, clearly chuffed.

\--

Later, in the cafeteria, Matt is eating lunch with a few of the off-duty stormtroopers. It’s Taco Tuesday and they’re chatting about Matt's favorite subject: Kylo Ren.

“I heard that Kylo Ren has an eight-pack,” Matt tells TK-388, who scoffs.

At that precise moment, General Hux marches in and, hearing Matt, approaches. Troopers OL-3141 and OL-3049 take this as their cue to leave.

“An eight-pack, really?” Hux says with casual disbelief, taking a now-empty seat beside the remaining TK-388 and staring Matt dead in the eye.

Matt doesn't flinch. “Kylo Ren is shredded.”

Hux gives him a warning look.

“…sir.” Matt adds grimly, eye twitching in annoyance.

“Hmm, I see,” Hux considers, “perhaps I will have to go investigate these rumors later. They seem as implausible as the rumor that Kylo Ren is actually the Master of the Knights of Ren.” TK-388 stifles a laugh and the hard shell of the taco Matt had been holding shatters, getting lettuce and minced meat all over the table.

“Oh, look at your strength! It seems that you work out, too, Matt. Do you have an eight-pack as well?”

TK-388 looks cautiously side-eyed at Hux, now wishing desperately he were wearing his helmet. Matt glowers. “I will show you my eight-pack.”

“Maybe I should go—” TK-388 makes to leave, but a firm hand from Hux on his shoulder forces him to retake his seat and watch this disaster unfold before his horrified eyes.

Matt stands angrily and rips the orange vest from his chest, throwing it on the ground. Hux is smug, his elbow resting the table, propping up his chin on a loose fist while the other hand firmly grounds poor TK-388 to his chair. He quirks an eyebrow. Growing more enraged by the second, Matt rips open his khaki shirt, sending buttons flying. One particularly wayward button strikes TK-388 square in the face, and he relishes the opportunity to close his eyes.

As Matt stands before him, fuming, shirt hanging open, Hux languidly trails his eyes up and down Matt’s chiseled torso.

“I’d say a four-pack,” he remarks, standing. “At best.” He turns on his heel and leaves, greatcoat billowing behind him. TK-388 slowly opens his eyes and Matt flips his food tray, sending the rest of his crushed tacos soaring.

\--

Hux is now reasonably confident that Kylo Ren is unwilling to blow his cover, and he is fiendishly delighted by this. He considers calling a strategy meeting with Supreme Leader Snoke just to see if Matt will show up and what Snoke would say to this latest bout of absurdity from his favorite pet, but ultimately decides that Snoke is not known for his winning humor and quickly dispels the thought from his mind. He spends his time instead formulating more entertaining ways to torture the poor fool.

For example, offering— nay, _demanding_ — to “supervise” him every time he bends down to fix wiring at the floor level.

For example, giving his ass a firm _smack_ every time they pass each other in the hallways, followed up with a “keep up the good work, _Matt_.”

For example, requesting that Matt work shirtless so as not to dirty his regulation uniform, especially considering he destroyed the last one the Order had given him.

For example, simply existing.

Hux is pleased with himself.

\--

Several days after the incident in the cafeteria, Hux is strolling down the corridors on the 4th floor of _The Finalizer_ , thumbing through messages and documents on his datapad when he comes upon Matt bent over, ass up, face buried in some floor vent, swearing. Hux stops abruptly and slips his tablet into the deep pockets inside his greatcoat. Smiling to himself, he walks right up behind Matt and bends slightly at the knees, resting his hands on Matt’s hips.

“What’s going on down there?” He calls.

From within the floor vent, Matt yelps, startled, and slams the back of his head into the ship above. Hux takes a step backwards to allow Matt to rise to his full height, rubbing the back of his unbelievably fake blond wig as he glares angrily.

“Oh, did I scare you?” asks Hux puckishly.

“What do you want?” Matt barks.

“I won’t have you speak to me that way, _Matt_.” A group of officers walk past, most not daring to look.

Matt watches them pass, wipes the sweat from his brow, and resentfully rephrases, “Is there something I can help you with, General, _sir_?”

Hux has that stupid smirk on again and he straightens, “Yes, indeed. There is a radar scanner in the command center that needs repairs. Follow me.”

“But what about—” Matt points to the vent on the floor, hanging open, wires exposed.

“Leave it,” Hux says, already striding off. “I’ve got bigger things for you to worry about.”

Matt growls, collects his tools, and hurries to catch up, vowing to one day end Hux and his cursed, cocksure smirk.

-

In the command center, several junior officers and technicians are working at various data terminals. A few gathered around one in particular, discussing possible solutions to the fault in its radar scanning system.

“Attention!” Hux commands as he marches into the room with Matt begrudgingly trailing in after him.

Everyone in the room falls silent, turns, and snaps to attention.

“At ease. This is Matt, the new radar technician,” Hux turns to introduce the awkward gangling man behind him.

Matt stiffens, curtly nods to the crew that he sees everyday masked as Kylo Ren. “Hi, I’m Matt.” He says tightly.

The crew nod back, a shared sense among them that something here is Very Strange. They collectively pretend not to notice and hurry to get back to their respective tasks.

Hux takes a seat in the command chair and whirls around to face Matt, crossing one leg over the other at the knee. “There seems to be a problem with the radar scanning system in this terminal. Would that be something you are capable of addressing, Matt?”

“I guess I could take a look,” Matt replies uncertainly, quickly adding a forced “sir” when Hux narrows his eyes.

Matt shuffles over to the data terminal Hux has indicated and haphazardly pushes some buttons, dials some knobs, and flips some switches. “It’s broken.” He announces. The nearby technicians roll their eyes and ignore him, moving away.

“Well done.” Hux deadpans.

“I can fix this if you’d stop stressing me out!” Matt shoots, glare smoldering. “Sir.”

“I have no doubt. In fact, perhaps I can help. Pass me a Harris wrench.”

Matt regards him warily but picks up a small wrench from his toolbox and offers it to the general.

Hux uncrosses his legs and extends his hand, but when Matt passes it to him, he lets it fall to the floor before him with a loud clang. A few of the more naïve junior officers turn to look.

“Oh, it slipped,” Hux says without taking his eyes from Matt’s. “Won’t you get that for me?”

Matt inhales sharply through his nose and exhales shakily. He bends down to pick up the wrench, but as he grabs for it, Hux drops his boot over its metal handle, kicking it backwards under his own chair.

“Oh. It slipped again.”

Anyone who had been watching has now definitely looked away.

Matt shuts his eyes. _Do not let him get to you, Kylo. He is unworthy of your attention. Do not do the thing_. He exhales again, gritting his teeth, and reaches for the wrench, cursing when it’s just beyond his grasp. He stops himself before he tries summoning it with the Force. He can’t afford to break his cover now, not with all these people around. _Do not do the thing_. He supposes he could just kill them all, but he’s currently without his lightsaber... _DO NOT DO THE THING_ ...and he wouldn’t want to explain this to Snoke, after all. He sighs, resigned.

Now on his hands and knees, he crawls towards Hux in pursuit of this blasted tool. Hux sits back in his chair, legs manspread, as Matt stretches under him to retrieve the wrench.

Nearby, Lieutenant Colonel Zack tries really hard not to notice and coughs awkwardly into his fist. Matt snatches the wrench quickly and clamors back to his feet, face flush and furious.

“If it’s all right with you, General, I need to go. I just remembered that there’s been an emergency somewhere on the exact other side of this ship and I am needed immediately. Forever.”

“Dismissed,” Hux says, not breaking eye contact.

Matt throws that stupid wrench back into his tool box, seizing it, and storms out the door.

“Oh, and Matt,” Hux calls out after him. He pauses and turns slowly, shoulders hitched up to his ears, fists balled. “If you happen to see Kylo Ren, inform him that his presence is requested in my quarters posthaste. I imagine we have much to discuss.”


End file.
